Führer Headquarters — Rastenburg, East PrussiaJanuary 15, 1942
The cold crept even into the underground bunker, where the heat of the generators and the tension of the conversation kept the air thick. A large oak table dominated the center of the room, covered in maps and folders stamped in red.
Heinz Guderian, standing, spoke without hesitation.
—The Sixth Army is free. The front is stabilized. We have Tiger IIs deployed, and our most experienced divisions are regrouping in the central sector. This is the moment. If we want to crush the Soviet Union, we have to take Moscow now.
Beside him, Erich von Manstein nodded gravely.
—If we take the capital, Stalin loses his logistical, political, and moral center. His armies could fracture. It's the only blow that would truly put the USSR on its knees.
Hitler, seated, eyes locked on the map, didn't look up.
—And what do you leave behind? A red bulge in the south threatening our right flank? A fortified salient that could bleed us dry if they launch an offensive from there?
Guderian took a deep breath.
—Kursk is a bulge, not a spearhead. It can be contained, it can be isolated. Moscow, on the other hand, is the bear's throat. If we squeeze it, everything collapses.
Hitler slowly turned to face them. His gaze was hard, almost unreadable.
—Kursk is the perfect opportunity to show who we are. Elevated ground, a concentration of enemy forces, perfect for being crushed by our new machinery. I want a textbook victory. One visible from Washington and Tokyo.
—A propaganda victory? —Manstein asked, not hiding his sarcasm.
—A victory of superiority —Hitler replied—. Racial, technical, moral, and military superiority. Kursk will be the greatest tank battle in history. And we will win it. I want Falk Ritter and his Tigers at the front.
Guderian clenched his fists.
—Mein Führer, with all due respect… if we fail at Kursk, there won't be a second chance. And we don't need to prove we're the best. We need to win the war.
Hitler stood abruptly.
—And we will win it at Kursk! With fire, steel, and resolve! Enough of grey, slow tactics! Victory must be visible. Crushing. Undeniable.
Silence.
Guderian knew there was no turning back. Not in that room. Not in that moment.
—Then —he said— so be it. But at least give us the means. Let us plan it properly. No improvisation.
Hitler calmed slightly. He sat again.
—You'll have what you need. Speer is already accelerating production. Goebbels will do his part. And you... bring me victory. Or don't return.